


A Kings of Con Karol

by Archangelsanonymous (Pattypixie)



Series: Christmas Fics [8]
Category: Kings of Con (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - A Christmas Carol Fusion, Angst and Humor, Directing Dick, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Infidelity, Multi, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 23:37:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16628675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pattypixie/pseuds/Archangelsanonymous
Summary: Rich is acting like a giant asshole on Christmas Eve and won't give anyone some slack as they film Con Jockeys. He's visited by three ghosts who masquerade as friends and co-workers, and they teach him the lesson he sorely deserves.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FUNNY BUT IT BECAME ANGSTY. Honestly, I'm expecting the next chapter to have some more humor, considering who the ghost is, so ENJOY!

 

“Come on, guys!” Rich shouted after calling cut for what seemed like the fiftieth time that day. “It’s like its getting worse!”

Rich and Rob had finally gathered enough money together to start working on their satirical venture, Con Jockeys, and so far it had been going…interestingly. They hadn’t raised quite as much money as they had hoped so their budget was almost non-existent, and Rich had been working everyone to the bone nearly every day of filming. It seemed like he was being especially hard on the cast and crew that day, on Christmas Eve of all things. Rob looked down at his watch and saw it was getting to be nearly ten at night.

“Rich, hey,” Rob attempted to get his partner’s attention but only received a grunt of acknowledgement. He took it. “So, maybe we should start wrapping up for today, I mean, it’s Christmas Eve and—“

“And what, Robbie?” Rich turned his head and frowned at Rob. “We have to get this done. We’re on a deadline.”

Rob shrugged. “I get that, but these people have families and—“

“And,” Rich continued, “they were hired to do a job. If they don’t get it done, then they don’t get paid, and they can’t provide for their damn families for fucking Christmas.” He turned back to the set and held up a megaphone. “Again! From the line about the fish!” He turned back to Rob and nodded for him to get back on set.

Rob sighed and walked over to stand on his mark. Getting through to Rich was pointless. He understood why Rich hated Christmas. It was a constant reminder of the fact that Rich didn’t have any family that he needed to make it home to. His parents had never been the loving sort, and he had tried to find that feeling in three different women that all ended in divorce. Rob’s heart broke a little thinking that Rich probably only had a handful of good Christmas memories.

“Action!” Rich called.

Rob truly did his best in the scene, but the rest of the cast was obviously getting fed up with the late hours and flubbed the take yet again. Rich’s yelling caused Rob to cringe and he went to try and barter with the man once more.

“Rich, we have to stop,” Rob sighed, hoping to get through to him. “It’s not even about Christmas. Everyone is exhausted and you’re never gonna get a good take tonight.”

Rich groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “Fine.” He threw his hands up. “Fine! But I expect you all back here at eight AM to finally get this scene right!”

“Seriously?” Sue scoffed, crossing her arms. “It’s fucking Christmas, asshole.”

“Yeah, Mr. Speight, sir,” Chip interjected. “My lovely nieces and nephews will be opening presents tomorrow morning.”

“I said, eight. A. M,” Rich reiterated. “Anyone who doesn’t show up can consider themselves out of a job.” He placed his megaphone on the director’s chair. “Today’s a wrap.”

Everyone started to break down and leave the set as quickly as possible, but Rob tailed after Rich as he stalked off. “I get that you hate Christmas, but you have to respect everyone else’s plans.”

“The world doesn’t stop revolving just because it’s Christmas, Robbo,” Rich explained, grabbing his coat. “We only have the space for three months and we’re already halfway through it.”

“I know, but,” Rob huffed, “what happens if no one comes tomorrow? Would you really fire our entire cast and crew?”

“Uh, yeah,” Rich assured, wrapping his scarf around his neck. “I want our people to be as dedicated as we are, Robbie. You’re gonna be there, right?”

Rob bit the inside of his cheek. He had been invited to his sister’s and he had really been looking forward to it, but…”Yeah,” Rob sighed. “I will.”

“Good,” Rich smiled a little. “Didn’t want to have to fire you, too.” Rob stared open-mouthed at Rich as he walked off. “Have a good night!”

Shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket, Rob sighed and trudged to his car. He’d text his sister when he got to the hotel.

Rich made it back to his hotel, but not before making a pit stop at the closest 24-hour liquor store. He took his bottle of whiskey up to his room and set it on the desk as he stripped down to his boxers. Alcohol and pay-per-view porn seemed like a great way to spend the holiday. There was never any reason for Rich to like Christmas. When he was younger, he was lucky if his parents even acknowledged the holiday. At twelve, his dad gave him a pack of menthols and a skin mag, and when he was eighteen, he was shown the door. Every time he was married, his wives tried to make it good, but each year was just the same awkward gathering with his wives’ relatives and their snot-nosed brats. He was far better off now just ignoring the holiday and anything that went with it.

As the credits to his first movie started to roll, Rich dozed off and was awoken suddenly by a knocking at his door. He glanced at the clock and frowned. Who the fuck was knocking on his door at midnight?

“Yeah, okay, hang on,” Rich called, stuffing himself back in his boxers and throwing on a robe. He opened the door and saw that it was…no one. “Fucking kids,” he grumbled before shutting the door. As he turned to go back to bed, he looked up and saw a large man standing in the room. It looked like the man was covered in chains and it took a moment for Rich to realize who it was.

“Hey, Richard,” the man waved as Rich covered his mouth to avoid screaming.

“You are…” Rich stammered. “Kurt, you’re dead.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Seriously. Matt needs to stop telling everyone I’m dead.” His chains rattled as he sat down in the armchair. “I am in a coma though, and I am just a hallucination.”

Rich narrowed his eyes. “Did I really jerk off that much?”

“What? No,” Kurt scoffed. “That’s crazy. I’m just here to convince you to not be such a Grinch, dude.”

“Seriously?” Rich crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You astral projected from your coma just to tell me that I need to like Christmas more?”

“Well, not just me,” Kurt crossed his ankle over his knee. “Three other peeps are gonna visit you tonight. They’re gonna take on the likeness of people you know, so you’re not as scared of them.”

“What do they look like normally?”

“Dude, you don’t want to know.”

Rich bit his cheek a bit and walked over to sit on the edge of his bed. “So, I don’t have a choice in this?”

Kurt shrugged. “Not really. I gotta go though.”

“Wait,” Rich called as Kurt stood up. “What’s with the chains?”

“I just thought they’d look creepier,” Kurt explained. “See ya, man.” He waved and walked out the door without opening it. Rich stared at where Kurt disappeared for a while before determining he wasn’t coming back. He looked over at the half-drank bottle of whiskey and had trouble deciding if he was too drunk or not drunk enough. Quickly, he chose the latter and snatched it up to take a drink. He apparently still had three other weirdos to deal with tonight and he had no intention of being sober for any of it.

A throat cleared behind Rich and he spun around to see none other than Kent O’Grady standing in the middle of his hotel room, adjusting his cravat.

“Oh my, I do apologize if I’ve frightened you,” Kent bowed slightly. “I had no intention of doing so.”

“Really? You chose him?” Rich moaned. “Alright. Who are you really?”

“I am the spirit of Christmases past and it is my absolute pleasure to escort you through your previous holiday experiences,” Kent smiled and held out his hand.

Rich raised an eyebrow at the offered hand. “Yeah, hard pass.”

Kent’s face dropped. “But, you can’t just…” He huffed and stomped one of his feet on the floor. “I’m afraid you have no choice but to come with me.” In a flash, he pulled a loose cravat out of his pants and wrapped it around Rich’s neck. “Oh, that’s just lovely.” Kent smiled and Rich wrinkled his nose at the article now adorning him.

“What in the—Was that in your pants?” Rich didn’t notice Kent grabbing his hand and before he knew it, they were outside of the house he grew up in.

Even though the ranch-style house was covered with a layer of fresh snow, it had a depressing look about it. All the houses around it were decorated with bright lights and there was a tree visible in the front window of each of them. Rich’s boyhood home, however, lacked such cheer. All of the windows were covered by curtains and the only light that spilled out into the night was from a window on the side of the house. Ignoring O’Grady, Rich followed the light and crunched through the snow to get to the window that it was coming from. As Rich approached the window, Kent waved his hand and the curtains blew back to reveal the room of a young boy, about ten years old.

Rich recognized himself and the year immediately. 1980. He looked in on his younger self, folding and cutting red, green, and white construction paper that he had stolen from school. That year, some friends from school had given him Christmas cards and he wanted to reciprocate. When Rich asked his mom if he could give out cards, she laughed and told him that no one really cares about cards anyway. She said they all just got thrown out, so what was the point of wasting money on them. He didn’t dare ask his dad. That was a good way to get backhanded or earn another burn on his arm. Rich rubbed his forearm, still feeling the scars, even though most had faded away with time.

Instead of relying on his parents to get cards, Rich had decided to take on the task himself. He had waited until his parents were asleep before starting on his creations. They were about as good as they would be, created by a ten-year-old. Rich caught himself smiling at his younger self, and quickly turned away.

“See, you used to enjoy Christmas,” Kent motioned at the window.

“Can I show you something?” Rich asked.

Kent nodded. “With my cravat, you temporarily possess the same powers I do.”

Rich grabbed hold of both tails of the cravat and squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating on the memory he wanted to travel to. He opened his eyes and it was daylight. The morning after he had spent all night making cards. His younger self was passed out on the floor, scissors still in hand. He looked in the window and motioned for Kent to come over and watch as well.

“RICHARD!”

Rich flinched slightly at his mother’s shrill voice. The boy bolted awake, scrambling to hide all the leftover scraps of paper under his bed.

“Your ass better be up! The bus will be here in five minutes!”

The boy took all the finished cards and shoved them in his backpack. He was in the middle of zipping them up when the woman barged into the room. A frightened look passed over the boy’s face as he looked up to face his mother. She narrowed his eyes at young Rich, then looked down at what he was shoving in his backpack.

“What in the hell?” She bent down and ripped the cards out of his hands. “Are these fucking Christmas cards?” Rich looked at the ground and backed away a little. “Didn’t I tell you that these things were pointless?”

“I made them,” Rich protested. “They didn’t cost anything.”

“Yeah, and do you know how it works?” His mom grabbed his chin and forced it up while she shoved the cards in his face. “If you give out cards one year, they’ll expect them the next year. Eventually, you won’t have time to fucking make them and they’ll have to be bought and that’s money that we don’t fucking have.” She tore the cards in half, then turned them and tore them again. “Get ready for school.” The scraps of the cards ended up on the floor when she dropped them while walking out of Rich’s room.

Rich watched from the window as his younger self dropped to his knees and stared at the shredded paper. He quickly turned away and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms.

“See?” Rich pointed at the window. “I couldn’t like Christmas. I wasn’t allowed.”

Kent had taken out a handkerchief and dabbed his eyes with the corner. “Come, let us venture to a time when you sabotaged your own Christmas happiness.” He grabbed Rich’s hand and they appeared in front of a much more festive house. This one was two stories, both trimmed almost perfectly in Christmas lights. Everything about the house was welcoming and bright, but it caused a wave of dread to fall over Rich.

“This is Jaci’s parent’s house,” Rich looked over at Kent. “I’m not going in there.”

            “Unfortunate, but you don’t have a choice,” Kent responded before transporting them to inside the living room of the house. The entire atmosphere was warm and full of Christmas spirit. Even though he was just a phantom, Rich could still smell the spice candles and the freshly baked pies from the kitchen. He could feel himself tear up, and tried to push the emotion down, but then…

            “Jaci,” Rich gasped slightly, seeing his ex-wife come out from the kitchen, holding a glass of white wine. She was a vision--long blond hair flowing down her back and over the front of her powder blue sweater dress. There weren’t many times during their marriage that Rich truly saw her happy, but here, she looked radiant. 

            “Do you remember this night, Richard?” Kent asked, softly. 

            Rich turned to where he was in this scenario, sitting on the couch and nursing his third double bourbon. He was ignoring the festivities around him and instead, staring at Jaci’s brunette sister, Angie, who was getting drunker and sloppier by the second. “Yes,” Rich breathed, his stomach starting to turn at the memory. “I don’t want to see this.”

            “Again,” Kent sighed dramatically, “unfortunate, but you have to.”

            Rich reluctantly watched as Angie’s skirt started to ride up her thigh, and the past version of himself started to take notice. Past Richard got up and walked over to Angie, leaning down and whispering something into her ear, watching her giggle, then walking away into the foyer.

            “What did you say to her?” Kent wondered.

            “I told her to meet me up in her room,” Rich replied, avoiding Kent’s gaze. “Angie still lived there at the time.” He followed himself into the foyer and then up the stairs. Past Rich stopped in the bathroom and used the toilet before going on to Angie’s room at the end of the hall. The light was flipped on and the phantoms made their way to the room. Angie was already spread out on the bed with Rich standing in the doorway, holding his bourbon.

            “Finally realize you chose the wrong sister?” Angie purred, pulling her skirt up, revealing more of her thigh. 

            “I just want a snack before dessert, sweetheart,” Rich set his glass down on the dresser and walked over to the end of the bed, kneeling on the mattress. “We can discuss the rest later.” He placed his hands on Angie’s knees and moved down her thighs, pushing them apart. Once Rich pushed his hands under her skirt, he grabbed her hips and pulled her to him. Angie gasped, then giggled as Rich leaned down and started mouthing at the exposed skin of her breasts, thanks to the low neckline. 

            Rich cringed as he watched, appalled that he did this. Jaci, his beautiful, smart, amazing wife was right downstairs and here he was with this trashy substitute in a green leopard print skirt. 

            Angie fussed with Rich’s belt and fly until she eventually got his khakis loose, and pushed then down along with his underwear to release his swollen cock. She took hold of it and Rich groaned, while Angie hummed with approval. “Big boy, huh?”

            “Just shut up and let me fuck you,” Rich growled, sitting up and shoving a finger into Angie’s folds, making sure she was wet and ready. She moaned underneath him and Rich decided that she was more than prepared. He flipped Angie over onto her stomach, then pulled her hips back, guiding her onto his cock. Rich thrust into her and groaned, gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises. Angie was making sounds akin to a porno, but Rich tuned them out, paying attention to nothing but his own pleasure. 

            “Angie? Is that--Oh my God,” Jaci appeared in the doorway and Rich looked back at her, still deep inside of her sister. “What the fuck, Rich?!”

            Rich shrugged. “I got bored and horny.” He looked down at Angie, who was clearly embarrassed, then looked back at Jaci. “Wanna join?”

            “No, you asshole!” Jaci walked over to Rich’s drink on the dresser, grabbed it, then threw it in his face. “My fucking sister? Really?”

            “She was basically begging for it,” Rich argued, pulling Angie back onto his cock when she tried to crawl away.

            Jaci turned away, covering her mouth as she started to shake with sobs. “I can’t believe you.” She took a deep breath and looked back at Rich, eyes rimmed with tears and redness. “Finish up and get the fuck out of here. It’s Christmas so, consider you not having to deal with blue balls my present for the year.” She turned and stormed out of the room and down the stairs. 

            Rich turned back to Angie. “Hear that, baby? We can finish this up.”

            “Get the fuck off me, Rich,” Angie spat, pulling away once Rich let go. “This was supposed to be a one time thing to get it out of our systems.” She slid off the bed and readjusted her clothes. “Now my sister hates me, so just go. Stay the fuck away from us.”

            Rich watched as Angie stormed out of the room as well, and frowned. “Well, fuck, I’m still getting off.”

            “Stop,” Phantom Rich turned away, knowing what was coming next. “I get it. I was really fucked up.”

            “Jaci was the love of your life, wasn’t she?” Kent observed. 

            “Yeah, well,” Rich sighed and walked out into the hallway. “As you can see, I kinda did some unforgivable shit. She was far better off without me anyway. She was totally calm and collected during the divorce.” 

            “Come, Richard,” Kent practically floated down the stairs and Rich followed him down. The living room was still festive as ever as they passed it to go to the backyard. Once they arrived, he saw Jaci sitting in one of the deck chairs, bent over with her face in her hands. Tears fell freely onto the ground, and Rich’s heart shattered to see her in such a state. 

            “Did you keep in contact with Miss Jaci after you seperated?” Kent walked around behind Jaci, then looked up at Rich.

            “No,” Rich replied, kneeling down at Jaci’s feet. “I figured she’d never want to see me again.” He reached up, wanting nothing more than to comfort her, but hesitated when he remembered he wasn’t corporeal.

            “I see,” Kent nodded. “I believe you’ve seen enough.”

            Rich took one more look at Jaci before feeling himself dragged back into reality. He suddenly found himself kneeling on the floor of his hotel room and quickly stood up, brushing himself off.

            “What now?” he asked, taking off the cravat.

            “Oh, no, no, no,” Kent stepped forward and pushed the cravat back at Rich. “It’s for you, my dear man. Consider it a favor of mine. Please! Let it give you strength as you go into battle this night with your own emotions and memories.”

            “Uh,” Rich raised an eyebrow, “sure. But seriously. What happens now?”

            “Present will arrive soon,” Kent winked. “Enjoy, Richard. I bid you adieu.” He bowed and flourished his hand a bit, then backed out of the door, vanishing from sight.

            Rich threw the cravat on the bed, then walked over to his bottle, forgoing the glass altogether and taking a swig straight. He was gonna need all the inebriation he could get.


	2. Chapter 2

“Wake up, you lazy ass!”

Rich sat up quickly, startled by whatever woke him. He must have dozed off after...Nah that had to be a dream. There was no way he--

“Come on, I’m the spirit of Christmas present, motherfucker,” Matt Cochran stood in his hotel room, sucking on the smoothie he had in his hand and pointing towards the door. “Let’s go.”

“Seriously?” Rich groaned and fell back into bed, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “You seriously fucked up my arms last time I went anywhere with you. Why would I go now?”

“I’m not taking you to a gym, fucktard,” Matt spat, ripping the covers off of Rich’s bed. “I’m gonna show you how much of a fuck-up you are.”

“Oh, thanks,” Rich reluctantly got up and threw his robe on, “that sounds super inviting.”

Matt scoffed at him. “Shut up.” He grabbed Rich’s arm and they were transported to a hotel room eerily similar to the one they had just left, except in this one, Rob was sitting on the end of his bed, talking on the phone.

“Yeah, Amy, I’m not gonna make it tomorrow,” Rob sighed, running a hand through his hair. “No, it’s just this new project Rich and I are working on. It’s taking longer than expected.” He stood up and started to pace, walking through Rich once before Rich stepped out of the way. “No, no, no, I can’t say that. Rich is a good guy. Really. I mean, he can be really passionate sometimes but, you know. That’s a good thing in the business. Yeah. Yeah, I know how you feel about him.”

Rich’s eyes widened. Even after yelling at Rob today, he wasn’t venting or ranting about how horrible Rich was. He was defending him.

“Seriously Amy, he’s my best friend,” Rob declared. “I was even gonna invite him to come with tomorrow. I-I don’t care what you think or what Matt thinks. He needs a family to be with for the holidays and...I’m pretty sure I’m the closest he’s got.”

“That’s really fucking sad, dude,” Matt punctuated his opinion with a sucking sound from his straw and Rich frowned at him.

“Fuck off,” Rich said, then turned back to Rob.

“You know that’s not what I’m saying,” Rob huffed, his face starting to turn red. “I just mean--No, you’re--Fine, whatever, maybe I will! Then he’ll have to come for holidays, huh? Amy? Amy?” He pulled the phone away from his face and saw that his sister had hung up on him. Rob sighed and sat back down on the end of the bed. He tossed his phone to the side and rubbed his face, before getting up again and going over to grab a beer out of the mini-fridge. 

“Wow,” Matt chuckled a bit in amusement. “He basically just told his family to go screw themselves because of you.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Rich felt a tug in his chest, and he had never wanted to reach out and comfort Rob more than he had at this moment. He knew that their friendship was special, but this was more than that. Rob really was his only family, and he had been treating him like shit.

“Ready for more stuff that will make you feel like shit?” Matt asked, not waiting for an answer before grabbing Rich’s arm and transporting them somewhere else. They landed in an office, very nicely decked out in the sleek, modern style that was in fashion. There was no sign around the office that it was anywhere close to Christmas. Not even a card. Moonlight shone in through the large windows and the woman behind the desk was obviously there way too late.

“No, it’s fine Rodney,” the blond woman pushed her hair out of her face and wrote something down as she balanced her phone between her ear and shoulder. “I don’t do Christmas anyway.”

Rich tentatively stepped closer, sure he knew that face and voice, and then noticed the nameplate on the desk. “Jaci?”

“Yeah,” Matt sighed. “I guess after you guys split, she threw herself into work. She hasn’t been back to her parents house for Christmas since that time you boinked her sister.”

“She loved Christmas…” Rich whispered, still staring at Jaci. “I mean, she went all out. Sweaters, mistletoe, handmade gingerbread houses--All of it. She looked forward to it every year.”

“Not anymore,” Matt shrugged. “It’s probably your fault.”

“You think?” Rich shot a glare at Matt, then turned back to Jaci. “I’m such an idiot. There’s no way she’d forgive me now.”

“Then why is she still wearing your ring?” Matt asked.

Rich looked closer and saw that the wedding band that matched his was still on her left ring finger. “I can’t believe it. I haven’t talked to her in years. Why would she--”

“Eh, don’t know. Don’t care,” Matt strolled over and grabbed Rich’s arm. “We got one more stop on this train, and I wanna hurry this up so I can get back to the twins I picked up last night.”

“That’s incest, creep,” Rich replied, not sure if he wanted to know where he was headed next. He opened his eyes and looked around, recognizing the generic decor and smell of pancakes. “Are we at Denny’s?”

“Only thing that’s open this late,” Matt replied, pointing over to a large table full of people that he recognized as most of his cast and crew.

“I say we walk out on that asshole,” Sue pounded her fist on the table. 

“Then we don’t get paid,” Maury retorted, taking a sip of his milkshake. “Wait. Are we even getting paid  _ now _ ?”

“I just don’t think that would be very nice,” Chip spoke up. “I think we should write him a strongly worded letter about how we feel.”

“Seriously?” Sue rolled her eyes. “We’re way past a  _ letter _ . I want to show Rich that we mean business.”

“Come on, Sue,” Chuck, one of the camera guys stabbed a piece of potato with his fork. “You know all of us would love to do that, but some of us have families. Yeah, it sucks we can’t be with them, but we need that money more.”

“Do all of them feel like this?” Rich asked, walking around the table.

“Yeah,” Matt nodded. “You’re a gaping, prolapsed asshole.”

“Okay, didn’t need that visual,” Rich shook his head.

“Fine,” Sue leaned back and crossed her arms. “How about we come in late. Just an hour. Rich said 8am, so in protest, we’ll come in at 9. He can’t fire all of us, no matter what kind of threats he makes.” A few people traded looks around the table and nodded. “Chip?”

Chip bit his nails nervously, but squeezed his eyes shut and nodded as well. “Only an hour, though!”

“Well, that’s that,” Sue smirked. “Now who wants to find a bar and get blasted?” Several hands raised and she led them out the door. 

“Do you think this is right, Maury?” Chip asked, still obviously nervous. 

“No,” Maury sighed. “But we shouldn’t have been put in this position in the first place, and that’s why we’re doing it.”

“Oh,” Chip leaned back in his chair and sipped his R/C.

“Well, at least now I have some warning,” Rich sighed. “I guess they’re right though. I have been a slavedriver recently.”

“It took you spying on your cast and crew as a ghost for you to get that?” Matt rolled his eyes. “Fucking A, I’m glad Con Junkies cast me otherwise I’d have to be on this pile of crap.”

“Hey! Con Jockeys is not--” Rich walked up to Matt and attempted to poke his chest, but instead went through it. “Okay that’s weird but, it’s not a pile of crap. We raised money for it and our fans are really excited to see it.”

“Whatever,” Matt shrugged. “You’ll never get a second season.” He grabbed Rich’s arm and transported them back to his hotel room. 

“Are you done?” Rich huffed.

“Hell yeah! I’m outie,” Matt threw up a peace sign with his hand. “Bye, bitch.” He walked out, phasing through the hotel room door and Rich breathed a sigh of relief. Rich crawled back into bed and mentally catalogued all the things he saw. He had really fucked up a lot of people, hadn’t he? His crew hated him, Rob’s family hated him, and Jaci...Rich toyed with the ring on a chain around his neck. It was pointless. He was too late to make things right with any of them. Rich rolled over and drifted off to sleep, forgetting that he still had one more visit to go.


	3. Chapter 3

   Rich awoke, shivering, and reached down to pull up his covers, but found them gone. He opened his eyes and saw that the floor of his room was covered in about a foot of dense fog. His breath came out in clouds as he pulled his knees to his chest and hugged them for warmth. A figure appeared to him at the foot of his bed and its mere presence shook him to his core. As the figure more clearly materialized, it started to look familiar. Rich stared at the phantom as it took the shape of a slender, petite man wearing what seemed to be a long, sleeveless dress or robe with a hood that shielded most of his face. Finally, Rich could tell who it was and he quickly relaxed.

“Osric?” Rich huffed, teeth chattering. “What the hell, man?”

“Ugh,” Osric sighed, snapping his fingers and turning the lights on. “I’m trying out a new aesthetic.” 

“Is it ‘scare the fuck out of people’ because you are rocking it,” Rich let out a breath and could feel the room start to warm up.

“It’s called Morbid Celestial Sophistication, alright?” Osric rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I’m the spirit of Christmas future.”

Rich narrowed his eyes. “Are you going to show me what aesthetic I’m going to have?”

“Sweetheart,” Osric smirked, “not even I can save you from your Hipster Country Dad look. You’re stuck with that forever. Now, come along.” He stepped forward and phased through the bed to grab Rich’s hand. They were transported in a flash to an unfamiliar office with an older man sitting in the visitor’s chair.

“I expected to see my funeral or something,” Rich shrugged. 

“Nah,” Osric replied. “You won’t be having one.” Just as Rich was about to ask why, the older man spoke up.

“No, no,” the man sighed and Rich immediately recognized him. “A memorial service won’t be necessary.”

“So, just our basic cremation service, then,” the man behind the desk wrote a few notes down. “Will you be supplying an urn or will you require one?”

“I, um,” Rob ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair. “I wouldn’t have any idea where to look for one, so I’ll just go with whatever you have.”

“You are aware that Mr. Slate had a substantial amount of money set aside in the event of his passing,” the funeral director informed. “It could pay for a viewing, service, and a premium casket and plot.”

“Yeah, I know,” Rob nodded. “He told me about it in the hospital. I know that’s what he wanted but, no one will show up. When I posted about his passing on Facebook, most people reacted to it with hearts or laughter. I’m pretty sure I was the only friend he had left.” He shrugged and looked down. “I don’t want that money to go to waste.”

“Understood, Mr. Bennett,” the director stood up and extended his hand. “I’ll call you when he’s ready to be picked up.”

Rob stood up, shakily, and took the man’s hand. “Thank you.”

“What?” Rich scoffed, turning to face Osric as Rob left the office. “I have a ton of friends!”

“Do you?” Osric shot Rich a disbelieving look.

“Yeah,” Rich held up his hand and started to tick people off on his fingers. “ I have Rob. I have Sue.”

“Hates you,” Osric corrected.

“I have Maury.”

“In it for a new line on his resume.”

“I have Matt.”

“Are you being serious right now?”

“I have Chip!”

“Okay, he’s nice to everyone so that really doesn’t count.”

“I have…” Rich struggled to find anyone else he really connected with. Maybe Osric was right. This really could be his future. Tears started to sting his eyes. Everyone just tolerated him because they had to. “I have no friends.”

“Would you like to see more?” Osric asked, about to grab Rich’s arm.

“No,” Rich pulled his arm away. “I think I finally get it. I know what I have to do.”

Osric smiled softly and held out his hand, palm up. “I know you do.” Rich took Osric’s hand and the next thing he knew, the alarm on his phone was blaring. He sat up quickly and squinted at the light streaming in through the window of his hotel room. After looking around, he rubbed his face with his palms, then threw the covers off of himself. He had to pick up some things before heading to set.

**

“Are you fucking with me right now?” Sue threw her script to the floor, causing Rob to flinch.

“P-Please don’t yell,” Rob brought his fingers to his mouth and started to bite his nails. “I don’t know where he is. I’ve been trying to text him and call him and--”

“This asshole tells us to be here at eight-fucking-AM on Christmas and he doesn’t even bother to show up himself?” Sue snatched her script up and started to leave. “Fuck this. I’m out of here.” Just as she reached the door, it swung open to reveal Rich with a Santa hat on and loaded down with shopping bags. 

“Woah, Sue, where are you going?” Rich asked.

“I’m quitting, shit stain,” Sue shoved her script into his chest. “I’m done.”

Rich’s eyes widened. “Oh, well, can you wait just a sec? I want to give you something before you go.” He stepped past Sue and set his bags down on the floor. “I actually have something for everyone.” After looking over the bags, he bent down and rummaged through one. “It’s Christmas morning, so I couldn’t get you guys anything as nice as I really wanted. Rain check on that, I promise.” He pulled out a stress toy shaped like a wine bottle and held it out to Sue. “I saw that and thought of you.”

Sue stepped forward cautiously and took the toy. “This...is actually kinda cool.”

Rich grinned, then went back to the bags. “And, Chip, here.” He pulled out a harmonica. “I don’t even know if you play, I just--”

“I do!” Chip grabbed the instrument and beamed. “Oh my, thank you so much, Rich.”

“Maury,” Rich reached in a bag and pulled out a travel mug. “Easier to hide ‘creamer’ in.” Rich winked and Maury smiled as he accepted his gift. 

“Thank you, Richard,” Maury nodded. Rich continued giving out gifts to the cast and crew, and Rob watched, not sure what had come over him, but it was definitely better than before. Finally, Rich only had one bag left and he brought it over to Rob. 

“Here,” Richard held it out to him. “This is for sticking by me through all the bullshit and awful things I’ve done.”

“Rich, I--”

“Stop,” Rich waved his hand. “You’re my best friend and I should show it more.”

Rob opened the bag and his heart swelled. “Oh my God…”

Rich cringed. “I know. I’m sorry, it’s just everything is closed and I’ll get you something better later, but--” Rich was cut off with Rob’s arms flying around his neck. 

“It’s awesome, Rich,” Rob smiled as he hugged his best friend. He stepped away and patted Rich’s shoulder.

“Now, I know I’ve been a gigantic asshole lately,” Rich announced to the cast and crew. There were some nods and sounds of agreement and Rich put his hand up. “I get it. Trust me. I’m really sorry and, I want you all to go home and spend Christmas with your family. We’ll pick back up in two days, alright?”

Everyone started to clap and there were smiles all around. As people started to file out, Sue came up to Rich.

“Listen, I…” Sue groaned. “I mean…”

“I get it,” Rich smiled. “I’ll see you in two days.”

“Well then,” Sue turned around and held her arms up. “Merry fucking Christmas, everyone!”

Rob stood by Rich as they watched everyone file out of the room. Once the stage was clear, they sat down in the directors chairs marked with their names. 

“You gonna head to your sister’s, then?” Rich asked.

“Nah, we uh…” Rob sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“Wanna go grab a beer and talk about it?” Rich pointed his thumb towards the door.

“Rich, it’s eight in the morning,” Rob chuckled.

“I have beer at my hotel room,” Rich shrugged.

Rob grinned at the sudden turn for the better that his best friend had taken. “Yeah, okay. Merry Christmas, Rich.”

Rich wrapped an arm around Rob’s shoulders as they walked out. “Merry Christmas, Robbie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda left Rob's gift a mystery because hey. Maybe it's a book, maybe it's a vibrator. THE WORLD MAY NEVER KNOW. (Feel free to put your hypothesis in the comments)
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Come caroling with me at  
> Tumblr: @Archangelsanonymous  
> Twitter: @Pattypixie


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